


The Garden Near The Cottage

by Quantum_Algae



Series: Writing Party!! [3]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:42:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27002164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quantum_Algae/pseuds/Quantum_Algae
Summary: If one becomes immortal, will the friendships you had be lost forever?~John's jaws went slack. He never really believed in being reborn but this, this was undeniable. A surge of happiness, nostalgia, and pride swelled in his chest. He wanted to run and hug this boy, this talented kid and never let go. This friend he sees in the gleaming, emotionless eyes of this neighbour.
Relationships: George Harrison & John Lennon, John Lennon & Original Character(s), John Lennon/Yoko Ono
Series: Writing Party!! [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923289
Kudos: 5
Collections: The Phantastic Phantasie Writing Party





	The Garden Near The Cottage

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, not beta'd and edited cuz I was panicked and I needed to finish this :D

80\. Fucking. Years.

John used to think he was only going to live until 20. And then 25. And then 30. But when he wanted to stay, that's when they get you. 3 months after his 40th, some incredibly crazed fan stood near his flat, called out to him and shot him. 4 times even, on the back. John thought that was the end. So did Yoko as she, voice quivering, called anybody,  _ anyone at all, _ to help. Luckily the police came and scooped them up on their way towards the hospital. John didn't remember much, only a few woozy questions then a shaky voice, "Close your eyes, Yoko."

When they reached the hospital, his heart had stopped. He was pronounced dead at 11 pm. Or so the doctors said, because about 5 hours later, he was sat dazedly in the middle of a dim room, Yoko almost out of sight yet he could hear her silently sobbing. The room seemed to pulse and he felt like ice. But another strong feeling was the hunger.

At the time, John didn't know what it was nor how to stop it, but it seemed to be basically normal to the people around him. He could hear Yoko screaming but she sounded far away, behind thick walls.

So the second darkness came and went. This time tied up and held back and with the hunger mysteriously vanished, he could comprehend better.

"You can't tell anyone about this. Only she knows and no one else." A sharp look at him, and a trembling Yoko, soothed by someone consumed by the shadows.

A threat, a handshake, and he was let go, to live by himself with someone from the group of strangers until told otherwise. That someone turned out to be a scrawny boy with the darkest look in his young, round eyes, a look someone of his age should never have. Elliot was his name, and, though seemingly younger, he claimed he was somewhere around 104. Maybe 106. John didn't believe him at first, until he felt it himself.

Then, he endlessly wondered why he'd have to live alone with this moody teenager where he, an adult, should be capable of living by himself. But that was before the Hunger. The thing that controls and satisfies him as it murders anyone in its wake. Elliot did an extremely good job at keeping him safe and in control. In fact, he let John have a few outings. It's strange seeing a funeral held in your honour and your wife scattering what's supposed to be your ashes. He wouldn't at all want that since the thought of being burnt terrifies him, but this way, nobody will ask for a body. So, although grimacing throughout the whole thing, it's better than being cooped up in that small wretched cottage which Elliot thinks is pretty and lovely. To his credit, it does look great, but to John, the cottage is the only thing keeping him away from everyone else.

Eventually, John eased up on the cottage. What can he say, it just grew on him the way the flowers which Elliot taught John to garden beautifully flourished. Elliot also grew on John. He felt as if he has a child of his own to take care of, except the child is older than him and actually takes care of John instead. But after 10 or so years, he deemed John able to control himself. His craving and all. And to his and John's own surprise, John actually cried. Luckily, Elliot did promise to visit from time to time. For now, all John could do is keep the garden near the cottage trimmed, healthy, and happy.

A few more years and he went on his first outing alone. It was strange seeing other people who aren't Elliot. He forgot just how busy the streets of LA were and he'd forgotten how famous him and his mates were as he tried to push past an extremely heavy security to one very large estate where he found out George was staying. Paul did very good in hiding the address but a quick fly and sneak by was enough to give it away. He understands that it's very easy for him to just sneak in and see his friend, maybe one last time, but it's just polite to knock on the front door.

After a hard time getting in, a tearful exchange, and a beg to not tell anyone of his current condition, he said goodbye and back he was, the light of the moon shining on him as he walked home with a heavy weight on his shoulders. Maybe his garden could help with that.

  
  
  


And that brings him back here, to the desolate cloudy morning of middle-of-nowhere, Northern England. John himself was never sure of where he had been living, but as the garden grew, so did his love for this cottage and this.. place in the middle of nowhere as probably the world's saddest vampire. Not because he  _ is  _ sad, just the loneliness and how he dealt with it was sad. Elliot did come as he promised every once in a while, but that didn't feel like a lot.

One day as he worked on his garden, a voice came from outside the fence, "Nice garden, mister. I like doing a bit of gardening meself. Very calming."

With a start, John looked up to see a teenager with a small child, maybe 7, next to him, barely able to peek from the top of the fence. The teenager seems oddly familiar, with his cold stare and the small smile that tugged on his lips, barely noticeable.

"Oh, sorry to bother you. We just arrived here and mam told me to say hi to the neighbours. Or- well,  _ neighbour _ . I'm Nelson and this is Charlie-"

"I thought you wanted to be called Spike because it was all cool and ed-"

Swiftly, the teen, Nelson, clapped his hand on his little brother's mouth. "Don' listen to him. He likes to repeat rumours, y'see," He said, scrambling to get some dignity back.

_ Nelson.. Spike.. Charlie..  _ John heard those names somewhere… there's something warm and friendly about it. And very familiar. Before John knows it, he lets the brown haired brothers inside the garden as they walk around the place.

Nelson didn't comment too much about anything, only stopping by for a second or two at every different type of flowers and bed. But when he reached the little Pond that took John about half a year to finish, he stood and stared at it for a surprising amount of time. Seeing the odd behaviour, John decided to shuffle closer towards him.

"Lotus, huh? Nice flower, that. We used to have one in a pedestal looking thing before we moved." John stared at the lotus Nelson pointed out. It is a nice flower, but why he planted it is much nicer in his opinion. George's favourite flower, blooming to the best of its ability, something John should've helped George with instead of shoving him away for his short rivalry with Paul.

Before John noticed, Nelson already wandered off, closer towards the porch, eyeing the guitar propped up on a chair.

"You can play it if you want, you know," John piped up after mustering the courage to engage an actual conversation instead of just watching the boys. Nelson seemed to be a little taken aback by John's invite but picks the guitar up and slings the strap on his shoulder. A very quiet chord followed by another. A slight smile danced on his lips as he moved his fingers over the fretboard, playing noiselessly.

Then, the melody of Raunchy rang loud and clear around the garden.

John's jaws went slack. He never really believed in being reborn but this, this was undeniable. A surge of happiness, nostalgia, and pride swelled in his chest. He wanted to run and hug this boy, this talented kid and never let go. This friend he sees in the gleaming, emotionless eyes of this neighbour. Gladly, John listened to the cover performed by Nelson, noting down stuff he might be able to teach him.

The last note seemed to vibrate with a very giddy Nelson, holding the guitar very fondly. "This plays great. Mine is, uh.. a little cheap and it would never sound like this!" He exclaimed, raising the guitar up to John proudly.

John chuckled and patted the boy on his shoulder. "Well I can teach ye a thing or two about that. Anyway, your mum's coming and you brother is getting impatient," John said gesturing towards the little boy, trying to catch something in the muddy ground as faintly, his mum called out from a distance for the two of them to come back home.

"Well, better get back. I'll come again soon. I've got some tips for your garden," Nelson said, adding the last part with a wink.

John smiled at this excited, talented boy. Maybe he can help Nelson be a great musician better than George. Reach his fullest potential. Be a full bloom. Regardless, those sessions are soon to come as he waved him away. "See you then, Nelson."

**Author's Note:**

> Ty for reading!!


End file.
